


gently forced

by luxettenebrae



Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Angst, Blow Jobs, Bruises, Choking, Come Swallowing, Creampie, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dissociation, Don't Like Don't Read, Emotional Manipulation, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Face-Fucking, Fucking, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Gentle Sex, Injury, Kissing, M/M, Manipulation, Mind Break, Mind Games, Mind Manipulation, Multi, NSFW, Neck Kissing, Non-Consensual, Non-Consensual Kissing, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Non-Consensual Touching, Nudity, Obsession, Obsessive Behavior, Oral Sex, Passive Suicidal Ideation, Penetrative Sex, Rape, Rape Aftermath, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rejection, Rough Kissing, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Sex, Sexual Abuse, Sexual Violence, Smut, Swearing, Touching, Trauma, Triggers, Unhealthy Relationships, Unrequited, Unrequited Love, Victim Blaming, Yandere, and are okay with it, angst angst angst smut smut smut angst smut angst angst smut smut, don't read this unless you read the tags, i know they're long but READ THE TAGS, read the tags!!!!!!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:40:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23759251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luxettenebrae/pseuds/luxettenebrae
Summary: “I knew you would never like someone like me,” he says sorrowfully, desperately. “That’s why I have to do this. It’s the only time I know I have you to myself. The only time that you’re mine, and mine only.”-----Read the tags before you read, or don't read this.
Relationships: Asmodeus (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!) & Reader, Belphegor (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!) & Reader, Leviathan & Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Leviathan (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!) & Reader, Leviathan (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader, Leviathan/Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)
Comments: 55
Kudos: 500





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Read the tags if you didn't already! Don't read this without being okay with all the tags. This is important.  
> I shouldn't have to say this, but I do not condone any of the non-con and abusive relationship elements in this fic. Don't like it, don't read it. Don't waste your time sending me death threats.  
> More on this in the endnotes, but writing/reading this work temporarily changed the way I viewed Leviathan as a character.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: Made some minor edits to fix up the grammar (but not sure if it actually helped, oops).

“I knew you would never like someone like me,” he says sorrowfully, desperately. “That’s why I have to do this. It’s the only time I know I have you to myself. The only time that you’re mine, and mine only.” 

He pins your wrists to the wall and tilts your chin up with the other hand, kissing you deeply even as you struggle to get away. But his grip is so strong, and his kisses turn you weak in the knees—you feel your strength leaving you, but he catches you before you fall and carries you to the bed. There, he proceeds to strip your clothes methodically, even though you resist, pushing against his chest. His strength is too great for someone like you. A human like you. 

“Please, Levi,” you beg. “I see you as my best friend...please don’t do this to me.” 

His orange eyes seem to waver for a moment with sadness, but he proceeds to touch you. 

“I’m sorry... I wouldn’t do this if I had another choice. This is the only way to have you...” 

He kisses you down the arms, and despite yourself, you feel pleasure tingling in your senses as every place that comes in contact with his soft lips buzzes gently. 

“Isn’t you being my one true best friend enough...?” you ask, trying to stay calm. “You’re the only friend that’s the closest to me. You’re special.” 

His purple bangs sway as he shakes his head, and he leans in and captures your lips again as another hand ghosts his touch over your inner thigh. 

“Friends...isn’t enough. I want more. I want something truly special. But you can’t give it to me, can you?” He looks at you, and his eyes are so sad, so wounded you almost want to give in. “At least this way, I’ll have evidence of something more than just friends.” 

His next kiss is searing, and you feel your cheeks heating up. Even if you don’t like him in this way, it's undeniable that he's attractive. His muscles flex as he holds you down and touches you intimately, gently. You resign yourself. There is nothing you can do. He's stronger than you, and you could never escape under his watch in his own room. 

Finally, he unzips his pants, and his cock is painfully erect. He hovers over you and hesitates slightly as he positions his tip at your entrance. 

“You’re not going to resist anymore...?” 

His eyes search yours anxiously. You shake your head and open your arms. 

“You’re stronger than me, Levi. There’s nothing I could possibly do to get away from you,” you whisper. It's hopeless. “Come here. If you’re going to do it, at least embrace me.” 

He pauses, looking guilty, and nods. He reaches over and wraps his arms around you as he inserts himself, and you can’t help but shift uncomfortably in his hold at the intrusion inside you. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “Does it hurt...?” 

You bite your lip. He makes it so hard to hate him, even though you had never wanted this. It should’ve been easy to hate him, to stop liking him as a friend. But even now, you can’t see him as anything else. His kindness is a special kind of torture. 

“It’s not painful,” you reassure him. “Just...it’s a weird sensation having something go inside me.” 

He pulls back a little to study your expression, and evidently, he had seen enough because relief crosses his features. 

“I’m glad... And it’s not just because it’s me, is it?” 

“It’s not because it’s you,” you agree. 

Your hand goes up and you tousle his purple hair, the pads of your fingers gently rubbing his scalp. He seems to see it as encouragement, because he embraces you more tightly and starts moving slowly, pumping in and out of you at a steady pace. You almost wish he would just go faster and end it all quickly, but he's slow and so gentle as he kisses you softly. With the time he spends inside you, you begin to feel accustomed to having him filling you, and it's a feeling that scares you. He and you are just friends, and he did this against your will—but you were getting comfortable. 

His hands slide down your back, allowing him to lean back from you enough for him to bend his head over your neck, and you lift your chin, leaning your head backward unthinkingly, allowing easier access, and he kisses and suckles at a patch of skin. When he withdraws, you note the redness of it—although he was so tender about it that you don’t expect it to bruise much. He continues to slowly thrust in you and leans back to run his touch down your front, caressing you and stroking. It felt good. Too good. And the way he touches you, too—so full of love, so kind, tender, affectionate—was so painful. 

You watch his earnest face as he touches you reverently, as if caring for the most precious thing in the world, and a dark feeling twists in your gut. 

If only he would be rough with you, you found yourself thinking. If only he would hit you and pound you mercilessly—then, you could hate him easily. 

But even in bed, he's the same, kind and gentle person he’d always been, and it's painful to feel and watch. It hurts, receiving this kind of affection. You swallow your bitter shame and reach up, rubbing him on the head softly. 

He looks up at your face, surprised, and shyness overtakes his features. You find yourself wanting to smile, however inappropriate the situation is. He's done so much with you, connected himself so intimately with you, and yet a rub on the head is enough to make him blush. It's just another reminder that he was the same person, inside and out. 

He cups your cheek and kisses you again. His kisses are longing, wistful, yearning, with a touch of neediness, and his lips are soft and warm. 

After a few more thrusts, he empties himself inside you, his essence filling you, and he moans slightly, unable to keep it in. 

He pulls out his softening cock and presses another kiss to your lips. 

“I’ll go get a towel to clean up,” he says and leaves the room. 

You itch to put on your clothes—but you know what he means by clean up. He means clean you up. 

When he returns, the towel is slightly warm and wet on one side, dry on the other, and he dabs gently at your body and skin. 

“I can do it myself, Levi.” 

You reach for the towel, but he holds it away from your grasp. His eyes are once again sorrowful. 

“Please, let me do this,” he says, but there’s no question in his words. You relent and allow him to clean you, feeling somewhat like a child, if not for the way he touches you, so delicately, with a hint of sensuality. 

He strokes your cheek gently, but his touch is gone as quickly as it came. 

“You can wear my clothes,” he offers, and he pushes a bundle into your arms. 

You glance at your clothes, which were in a heap on the floor. At least Levi’s clothes were clean. You nod.

“Okay, thanks.” 

He blinks and then looks at you in that sad way again. Guilt lies in those orange eyes once again. 

“No...it’s only expected,” he mutters. 

You wonder why he did this if he seems to feel so bad about it, but you don’t question it. He watches you get dressed, a quick matter since it was a shirt and sweatpants. It was a very Levi outfit. After you’re done, he’s still staring. 

“Levi...? Why are you looking at me like that?” 

He shakes his head and averts his eyes, his long eyelashes fluttering. 

“No, it’s nothing... Just wanted to see if my clothes fit you,” he says, but you wonder if that’s really it. 

You feel hesitant, but you tentatively approach him. It only takes a few steps, since he’s still rather close to you. He watches you the way wounded prey does, and you feel strange. Shouldn’t you be the one who felt that way? You shake off the unsettling feeling and put a hand to his cheek.

“Levi, you can be honest with me.” 

His face is slightly red, and you can feel his cheeks warming a bit. He looks away timidly. 

“...I wanted to see you in my clothes. It’s...a typical anime trope,” he admits shyly. 

You want to laugh. He's the same as always, even after he’s...forced himself on you. It's strange to think about; he didn’t use that much physical force, and he was so gentle and loving with you. Conflicting emotions stir inside you, but you just pat his head. 

“Alright, alright... How is it?” 

You tug at the shirt, and his blush grows deeper. 

“...You look really cute,” he finally says. “K-Kind of makes me want to jump you again, but I won’t,” he hastily adds. “Not now.” 

You almost want to tell him it’s okay, seeing how he vacillates nervously. But why should you? The two of you have always just been friends. You still feel like friends, even though he's done something like that to you. Your relationship, as far as you were concerned, doesn’t include sex—it was something he’d made you do. But that face of his always makes you want to give into him. Almost always, that is. 

You just chuckle and go back and sit on his bed. 

“Let’s go to sleep,” you simply say. 

He looks at you in wonder, but ultimately walks over and sits on the other side of his bed. He lies down beside you, and you beside him, and the covers go over you both. He turns to face you, and you blink in surprise. His face is apologetic, but he doesn’t seem like he can be remorseful, truly. 

“I’m sorry.” 

How many times has he said that already? You wonder if you should just say it’s okay, but remind yourself he did it against your will. He should be sorry. 

“Don’t do it again,” you suddenly say. 

He looks ashamed and bites his lip. 

“I...can’t promise you that. Sorry...” 

You sigh. His orange eyes are plaintive, dejected. You want to comfort him, but you can’t. Not on something like this. 

“Why?” you press. 

He’s silent for some time, but he’s clearly in thought. 

“...I know you’ll never like me back,” he says. “This...is the only way for me to have you, even if I can’t have your heart.” 

He made it sound so romantic, you thought wryly. 

“Platonically, you have my heart,” you remind him. But he shakes his head. His bangs sweep into his eyes a bit, and you fight the urge to brush them away. 

“That’s not enough. Anyone can have your heart that way,” he says. “I want something special.” 

You study him. Is this truly the kind of special he wants, though? Just a physical relationship? Because he has never struck you as that kind of a person. Especially seeing as how he's always devoted to his 2D girls that he could never really touch, anyway. Should you ask him? Now is better than never, anyway. 

“Levi, is a physical relationship really what you want with me, though?” 

His features contort, and he looks doleful. 

“No, but it’s the best I can do.” 

You shrug. 

“I don’t think a physical relationship is better than a good platonic relationship, though. And you and I,” you say softly, catching his attention, “at least up until today, have been the best of friends. You’ve been the closest platonic relationship I have, Levi. I spend the most time with you between everyone else in my life. That’s not enough?”

He tenses, looking torn. But when his eyes drop, you know his answer. 

“Sorry,” he repeats. “I...just want something more.” His eyes glance at yours briefly but pull away quickly. “Someone will come along and replace me, as it is, anyway. I wish you were mine, even just for a little while.” 

Your gaze softens, and you muss his hair gently. He blushes at your touch. Every time you saw him like that, you told yourself it might not be so bad. You could settle for him, and everything would stop being so tense, so painful, so awkward. But you can’t afford to do that. You can’t promise him anything, either, and in the end, he’ll just be hurt even more. 

“Levi, no one can replace you. Didn’t I tell you you’re my best friend? No one, in terms of platonic love, will beat you or replace you.” You pause. “And every time we spend time together, aren’t I kind of yours? Even just for a while?” 

His gaze is steady and serious. Your heart skips a beat, and you quash it. 

“That’s not the same,” he disagrees. His voice becomes despondent. “I tried so hard to settle for just being best friends. But it’s not enough. I want more.” 

He reaches out and tucks a strand of your hair back, away from your face. 

Even after he pulls back, his touch lingers there. 

“You want more, even if it means ruining what we had?”

He stiffens. 

“...I don’t want to ruin what we have,” he murmurs. “I just...want more. I’m sorry. I know I’m being selfish.” 

A little voice tells you to say it's okay. But you crush it. He has taken advantage of you because he wanted to and could. He hasn’t listened to you. And, perhaps worse, he knows that what he has done is wrong. 

You exhale slowly.

“Let’s go to sleep for now, I guess.” You aren’t going to get anywhere with him—at least, not for now. “We’ll talk another time.” 

He nods, suddenly appearing extremely vulnerable. He stares at you closely and then speaks again. 

“Can I hold you...?” 

It's a question. You know you should say no—it seems that he would respect your boundaries right now, ironically enough. But looking at his face, it's hard to say no. And his embrace, as much as you hate to admit it, is always warm and comfortable. You tell yourself to say no, again and again, but you give. 

“Alright.” 

His face lights up, and he moves closer to you, draping his arm around you as he presses you to him closely. Your face nuzzles against his chest. It's such a familiar smell, a comforting smell. You think it ironic and perhaps wrong that you are willingly embracing someone who’d slept with you without your consent. It's difficult navigating these muddied waters. You stop thinking and let yourself dissolve in the blanket of sleep, cozied up in his hold. 

Leviathan gazes down at you fondly as you snuggle into his embrace. He wants to stroke your head and pet you, but he fears shifting would arouse you. He loves you, and it’s the best feeling ever—like the bubbliness in sparkling cider, intoxicating like the scent of wine, and refreshing as water. But you feel essential, too, like water. You are water to him; without you, he would quickly drown in the suffocating air of this world. Loving you is also wretchedness, being lovelorn and utterly miserable. You will never return his feelings, and it doesn’t feel okay. But if he can have your body, it's some consolation to not possessing your heart. It at least gives the appearance of you being his. You had been so unwilling—but you’d given up on resisting. He isn’t sure how to feel about that. Is it because you were simply giving in to the situation, having no control over it? Or is there something else there? Is it not so bad, being held by him? 

He has so many questions that he can never ask but wants answers to—questions like, was he a good lover? And did you feel good? At least you’d told him it didn’t hurt, and you seemed to be telling the truth. He’d prepared you so you were wet, too, so perhaps some part of you was aroused. By him or his actions, nonetheless. 

And when he’d finally taken you, it had felt so sinfully good. He could’ve drowned happily in that feeling—you, below him, his, and his alone. You had been so warm, and he had relished every moment, even though it was dampened by his guilt. You’d never said yes. Not once. It had all been his will. He gazes at you longingly. But this was why he had made love to you, because you would never have willingly embraced him as lovers, physically or emotionally. At least he was able to pretend for a moment while he was holding you. 

Even now, you lay in his arms, emanating heat, soft, and your features are unmarred by resentment toward him. Toward what he’s done to you. 

He can never erase his faulty and immoral actions, but he doesn’t exactly want to, either. Because you are his, even if just for a little while. 

Levi wonders why you agreed to let him hold you as the two of you slept. But perhaps it means you don’t actually hate him, not yet. 

A voice inside him reminds him that if you don’t hate him yet, he could still redeem himself, try to go back to being the best of friends. But it’s drowned in his want—no, need—to call you his, as more than just best friends. 

He holds you closer, wrapping his arm around you more firmly, and lets himself drift off to sleep, too. Even if he wants to, he can't change what he’d done to you. He can only continue forward this way. 


	2. Chapter 2

Blearily, you awaken. You’re unable to move, but it’s because something or someone is wrapped around you—you breathe in and smell that familiar, clean, salty smell, like the ocean, mingled with a touch of sweat. Leviathan. 

You recall the events of last night. He’d forced himself on you, knowing it was wrong, apologized several times, but then said he couldn’t promise not to do it again, which pretty much signaled that he would, given the chance. It was giving you a headache. 

You sigh and try to pull back a bit, but his hold on you is rather strong. All you manage to do is put a few inches between your face and his chest, and you look up at his face. He was still asleep, snoozing away. He was peaceful, appearing undisturbed, unworried. You were jealous. As you shift in his arms, you feel a slight soreness between your legs that further brings to mind last night. But as far as soreness went, it was mild. He’d been gentle, and although at the time there was emotional turmoil in you and you had wished he’d been rougher so you could be angry, you were also slightly relieved at the lack of pain. He could have done anything he liked to you, but he had treated you well, ironically, even though he had made love to you without your consent. 

You shift in his arms again. You were eager to get away so you could get a moment to yourself in the morning and recollect yourself, but he was heavy and didn’t seem to want to let go. Exasperated, a smile tugs at your lips even so. You’d just have to wait for him to wake up, you supposed. 

As you waited, you trailed your gaze over his face. Long, sweeping eyelashes were brushing against his soft cheek, and his skin was pale and unblemished. He had high cheekbones, a long oval face, and medium-sized lips that were slightly pink. Those lips sure liked to frown, but as he slept, they were inexpressive. His long purple bangs covered his forehead and eyebrows and was falling over his eyes, as they often did. You reach up and brush his bangs up to the side a bit. There. 

Levi stirred slightly. 

“Hm...?” 

Those orange eyes of his opened slothfully and were momentarily half-lidded before widening. You watched him process the situation with amusement. 

“Levi, are you awake now? Let me go so I can go prepare before going to breakfast. There’s school today.” 

He automatically uncurls his arm from around you, and you roll over, swinging your legs over the bed and standing. It wasn’t too bad; the soreness was barely noticeable when walking. 

“Are you going back to your room?” 

His voice is still heavy and low with sleep, and you turn to look at him. 

“Yeah, I have to get dressed. I stay over at your room all the time, but it’s not like I live here,” you remind him. 

“You could,” he says rather quickly. It appeared that it had slipped out of his mouth unthinkingly, and he covers his mouth swiftly in embarrassment. “Uh, I mean...” 

You laugh as you gather your things. 

“I know, Levi. Don’t worry about it. I’ll see you at breakfast.” 

You leave his room and make your way back to your own quickly. You were confident you could explain away his clothes as pajamas, but you didn’t want to try your luck. 

You tighten the tie of the uniform around your neck and look at yourself in the mirror. You looked tired, despite the sleep you’d gotten—you felt tired, too, from dealing with and thinking about the current situation with Leviathan. You’d talked to him so normally this morning, it was as if last night never happened, but the evidence was still on your neck, along with a tingling between your legs. How were you supposed to act after something like that, anyway? 

You sighed. You didn’t want to think about this anymore. You combed your fingers through your hair casually, and then grabbed your D.D.D. and bag and headed down to breakfast. 

“You’re right on time,” Satan comments. “Good morning.” 

You offer a tired smile. 

“Morning. It wasn’t intentional, but what can I say?” 

You plop down at your seat and pick at your food. You weren’t hungry. You were feeling kind of nauseous, in fact, and it wasn’t from the choice of Devildom food. It was out of anxiety from the situation you had with Levi. 

“Are you alright?” Beel’s worried voice interrupts your thoughts. “You’re not eating.” 

You plaster on another smile. 

“I’m okay,” you lie. “You want my food?”

He hesitates but shakes his head.

“You need it,” he insists. 

A sigh escapes your lips as you stare at the untouched food. You stand up and shovel the food onto Beel’s plate instead. 

“It’s okay. I’m not really in the mood today, anyway.” 

Beel looks like he wants to argue, but Lucifer cuts in. 

“You should eat, but I understand if now is not a good time. Be sure to eat your next meal,” he says. 

His eyes are sharp, and you nod. It was always best to just nod along to whatever Lucifer said, you found. 

You push the chair in against the table. 

“I’m going to head to class,” you say. 

“Now?” Satan looks at you with surprise. “It’s still pretty early.” 

You hadn’t thought that far ahead. You were thinking about how if you left quickly, perhaps you could avoid seeing Levi, who was always one of the latest of the brothers to show up to breakfast. 

“I have some work to finish up,” you lie. You’d taken care of it all before the weekend, but no one needed to know that. 

Lucifer looks suspicious but says nothing, and you walk off at a fast pace. 

Thoughts were still racing through your mind about yesterday. You still didn’t know exactly how to feel or what to do. Should you talk to someone about it? Everything felt so uncertain and uncomfortable right now. As much as Levi talked about how replaceable he was and how platonic love wasn’t special, his absence was already making a difference. Or rather, the conflict you were having with him—you were just with him this morning, after all. 

You had trusted him and believed in him. But with one night, he’d shattered it to pieces, even though as he did so, you continued to see the same Levi in the one who had forced you. He was the same person, and it was a difficult fact to reconcile. The Levi who played games with you on weekends, binge-watched anime, was adorably grumpy and sometimes cutely shy, who talked about your friendship like that of Henry and the Lord of Shadows, had raped you. 

You finally dared to use that word. It was accurate, even though it conveyed a coldness and cruelty that didn’t seem to lie in Levi’s actions—he had been warm, kind, loving—but it wasn’t consensual, and that was the criteria for meeting that definition. You hadn’t wanted that. He had you wondering if maybe you had during and after, but the fact was that before, you hadn’t wanted it, and he’d continued despite your protests. 

It hurt. 

You wanted to be angrier at him, to hate him, but all you felt was heartbroken. Miserable. Sorrowful. He had elected to ignore your feelings and trampled all over them with his love in the form of physical relations. He didn’t think your platonic love was enough, and he felt entitled to possess you physically. 

You weren’t an object. You couldn’t be his, or anyone else’s, for that matter. You were only yours. But you hadn’t been able to convince him of that—or rather, that hadn’t even come up in the little talk you’d had with him last night. 

You sit down at your usual spot in class before realizing it was the spot in the back next to where Levi sometimes came in late, although most of the time he would attend online. Thinking back, you realized he’d started going more and more frequently—vaguely, you wondered if it was to spend time with you. The extended time you’d spent with him had certainly endeared him more to you. 

And that was exactly why this was so painful. 

If any other demon brother had dared do this to you, you know you would’ve confided in Levi. Or at least, you were quite sure. But he was the one who had done something like that, and now you were at a loss on what to do or who to talk to about it. 

You do have one idea in mind, though. Asmodeus, Avatar of Lust. 

You wondered if Asmo would be able to give you some insight or words of comfort. He was pretty good at both, even though you didn’t spend as much time with him as you did with Levi. Not that you spent as much time with anyone as you did with Levi, anyway. 

After class, you approach Asmo. Luckily, Levi had decided to attend online. You hoped he had caught a hint and was giving you some space. Although you weren’t so sure about the likelihood of that being true, seeing as he’d told you not to expect him to not take advantage of you again. 

Asmo smiles, tapping his fingers against his lips. 

“My, if it isn’t [Name]! I haven’t gotten to talk to you in forever,” he gushes. “I missed you at breakfast today! I was so busy checking my hair that I forgot the time, so I got there later than usual.” 

You can’t help but chuckle. He was always so charismatic, and just being around him never failed to make you feel better. 

“That sounds like you, Asmo.” You become serious. “Can we talk today?” 

He grows thoughtful as he looks you up and down. 

“I was going to say that I need to go out, but it can wait. You look like you need me,” he says. 

The words are like a gentle dig at your heart—it was true, and comforting to know that he had your back, but also concerning that he could see through you so easily. 

You smile weakly.

“Yeah, I do. Thanks, Asmo.” 

He hums.

“Of course. Shall we walk back together and talk in my room?” 

You nod, and he slides an arm around your shoulder as the two of you walk. The gesture was familiar but so comforting. You wanted to cry all of a sudden. You hadn’t cried in a while, and you hadn’t wanted to cry over this, even. You’d been more shocked and betrayed than anything. But sadness had been growing and taking root inside you without you even noticing. 

You listened to him chatter with an easygoing smile as the two of you walked, and you walked into his room with him. 

“Here we are,” he smiles. “Have a seat on my bed, make yourself comfortable. Don’t be shy!”

You nod and reflect his warmth in your own eyes as you sit, pulling your legs up to sit cross-legged.

“Thanks, Asmo. I appreciate it.” 

“Of course.” 

His orange eyes watch you, and you’re struck by how different they are from Levi’s, even though they’re in the same area of a spectrum of color. They’re almost warmer, deeper, but with a touch of light gold. Those eyes charmed countless people—although you were immune. Nothing was stopping you from admiring them, though. 

You take a deep breath. You came here to talk to Asmo, after all. 

“I was with Levi last night,” you start. 

Asmo nods encouragingly, although at this point you’re sure someone else would have said, ‘When are you not?’ You appreciated his sensitivity. 

“Did something happen?” 

He puts a hand to your shoulder lightly, and the touch is enough to make you burst into tears. It was so kind. 

“Asmo, he...” Your voice shook. “He forced me to sleep with him.” 

Immediately, Asmo’s face darkens, looking thunderous, outraged, but you also see a hint of betrayal or disbelief, even though you know he always trusts you. 

“He forced you?” He wraps his arm around you from the side. “We’ll be having a talk with him.” 

That word. We’ll. Not you, but a we. He would talk to Levi with you. And he didn’t question the truth of your words. You feel the heaviness in your heart ease; if only a little. 

“I...tried to talk to him about it. But he’s stubborn.”

Asmo’s flowery fragrance—roses?—wafted over. It was a mild and lovely perfume. 

“What did he say?” 

He sounded as if he almost didn’t want to know, but had to know. 

“He said being friends wasn’t enough. That he wanted something more. And he knew I wouldn’t like him back as more than a friend, so he wanted proof of something more. That if he couldn’t have my heart, he could have...my body.” 

It hurt to say it all out loud. The tears stung at your eyes again. You realized the implication in those words. Your body, owning your body, was equivalent to winning over your heart. That’s why your feelings on the matter didn’t matter. Because your body was worth just as much. 

Asmo’s grip on you tightens slightly. 

“You know he’s wrong, right?” His voice is soft, although in it lies anger. “No matter the reason, he was wrong because you didn’t say yes.” 

You shakily nod. 

“...Yeah. I thought about just giving in, but...he’s right. I don’t like him that way. If I go into a relationship with him like that, in the end, he’ll just be hurt.” 

Asmo’s hand rubs your back comfortingly, in soothing circles. 

“You’re too nice,” he says. “You’re still thinking about his feelings. What about your own?” 

Your chest pangs. 

“I...don’t even know how to feel, Asmo. I think...I feel hurt. Betrayed. I trusted Levi. And after it, it was still like we were the same good friends we’d always been. I didn’t know how to act.” 

“Do you genuinely think you can still be friends with him?” he presses, but it’s not a question. “He hurt you. Trust is important for the kind of friendship you two had. And he broke it.” 

You wipe your eyes, fingers trembling. 

“You’re right... But he was so gentle about it,” you sobbed. “He was so loving, I couldn’t bring myself to hate him. If he had been rough with me or hit me, I thought it would have been so much easier to just hate him. But I can’t.” 

Asmo pulls back to look you in the eyes. His gaze is steely, but you know it’s not directed toward you. 

“Listen to me. You can hate him, no matter how gentle or loving he was in bed.” He puts his hands on your shoulders, serious. “The fact is that he did it without your consent. You can’t erase that. It doesn’t matter how he treated you. He did it without you saying yes.” 

Your eyes flick away from his for a moment but return just as quickly. You nod slowly. 

“I...yeah. You’re right. It’s just...I don’t know what to do now. Even though he did that, it’s still hard for me not to treat him like a friend.” 

Asmo lets out a sigh and wraps an arm around your back again. 

“You’re just not adjusted yet. You’re still accommodating the image you have of him.” 

“It’s hard to separate. We were such good friends. He’s the same Levi.” 

Asmo rests his head on yours. 

“But he’s also the same Levi who hurt you,” he says softly. “Don’t be friends with him anymore. You can’t give him that.” 

“You know what else he said, though? When I talked to him, I told him not to do it again. And he said he couldn’t promise me that. But he also said he didn’t want to ruin what we have.” 

You can feel the anger radiating off of Asmo. 

“He said that? I have half a mind to march over right now and charm his Henry 1.0 to go eat him.” 

You chuckle, amused at the thought. 

“I mean, no need to go that far, but it sounds fun to try. He’d probably escape, anyway.” 

“There _is_ a need to go that far. Let me tell you,” he says. “He’s already ruined what you two had. He can’t have you, any of you. Don’t let him. He was selfish and cruel. He hurt you.” 

You bit your lip. 

“What...am I going to do, then? I avoid him? We live in the same house.” 

“Don’t be around him when no one else is around,” Asmo says. “Don’t agree to hang out, in his room or otherwise. Just come spend time with me and the others. He’s been hogging you, anyway, and now he’s hurt you, too. He doesn’t deserve your kindness or forgiveness.” 

You think back to the way you’ve spent your past weeks- most of your free time had been occupied by Levi. You’d spent weekends gaming with him, listening to him talk animatedly, and rewatching seasons of TSL. You would spend the nights in his room afterward often enough, too. 

“It’s going to be hard,” you reply. “Like you said, I’ve been spending most of my time with him. I don’t know how I’ll fill that free time now.” 

“Oh, you’d be surprised,” Asmo counters. “With the other six of us around, your time will easily be filled up. Just watch.” 

He fishes out his D.D.D. and starts typing away. 

“What are you doing?” You look over his shoulder curiously. “Are you texting Satan…?” 

He nods, grinning as he types. 

“I’m setting up a time for the three of us to spend time together every week. Actually, make that three times a week.” 

You can’t help but laugh at his generous spontaneity. 

“Oh, Asmo. Thank you. But what about your nights out to the town?” 

He turns to you and winks. 

“You can accompany me. What do you say?” 

You hadn’t had the opportunity to go to the town that often since Levi liked to stay in most of the time. 

“Yeah, that sounds great!” 

Asmo throws his arms around you gleefully. 

“Wonderful! We’re going to have an amazing time, you and I. And any other witches and demons we pick up along the way, of course.” 

You pat his back. 

“Yeah, it’ll be a lot of fun. I’m excited to go with you.” 

He pulls away and starts typing furiously on his D.D.D. again. 

“You can spend time with the twins, too. Here…” 

You watch him as he works, astonished. 

“But...won’t it be weird that you’re setting us up?” 

He shakes his head. 

“I’ll just tell them you’re with me right now, which is true. And then I’ll say you left your D.D.D. in your room. Just a little white lie.” 

You giggle at his antics. 

“Alright, Asmo. I trust you.” 

Asmo’s orange eyes meet yours, and they’re affectionate, full of fondness for you. 

“I trust you too,” he says solemnly. “And I’m glad you trusted me with this.” 

“Thank you for being here for me.” You kiss him on the cheek lightly. “You were the first one I thought to talk to.” 

A smile curves across his face. 

“I would have preferred a kiss on the lips, but I’ll settle for that, too. I’m honored, though.” Asmo’s eyes become serious again, however. “I forgot to ask you. Are you physically hurt?” 

You shake your head. 

“No, not really. Like I said, he was very gentle. That’s part of why it felt so weird being around him, even though I didn’t consent, because he was so kind about it.” 

Asmo kisses you on both cheeks and then places his hands on both. 

“It doesn’t matter how gentle he was,” he emphasizes. His orange eyes aren’t mellow right now, but hard and staunch. “He’s not kind because he did it without your consent.” 

Your eyes search his face, but he’s resolute. You sag slightly. 

“Okay, Asmo. I’ll listen to you.” 

He runs his fingers through your hair tenderly. 

“That’s right. Listen to me.” His D.D.D. dings and he glances at the screen with a cheeky grin. “You’re booked every night of the week for the next month. You’re going to see neither hide nor hair of that demon.” 

You wrap your arms around him for a quick hug. 

“Thank you, Asmo. You’re the best.” 

Warmth glows from his face. 

“I know,” he preens. 

You can’t help but smile. For all his narcissism and endless flirtiness, he was here for you, and he knew what he was doing, how to guide you, how to help you. You shift away again, looking at the time on your D.D.D.- it was already 5:30 pm. Almost dinner time. 

“I should get going,” you sigh. “I have to bring my things back to my room before dinner.” 

You get off the bed and stand, making for the door. Asmo follows, to your surprise. 

“I’ll walk you to your door,” he simply says. 

You think about turning down his offer, but it was more of a statement than anything. And you could use his support. Asmo’s eyes are temperate, caring. You can tell he’s worried, too. 

“Thanks, Asmo,” you relent with a nod. 

He just nods back, and the two of you exit his room. 

He grabs your hand, interlacing your fingers as the two of you walk down the hallway. 

You’re safely dropped off in your room, and you fall onto the bed before realizing you’re still in uniform. You still needed to change. You shrugged off the jacket and unbuttoned your dress shirt, pulled off your pants, and looked for clothes. Your eyes caught the neatly folded pile in the corner—Levi’s clothes that he’d lent to you. You’d promised Asmo to not spend time with Levi anymore, not be with him alone, but you had to return his clothes. You couldn’t have other people around when you did it, either. Just a quick jaunt to his room would be fine, right? 

But your chest tightens. You didn’t want to go over right now. You put on some casual clothes and grab your D.D.D. before leaving the room for dinner. 

Beel greets you as you walk in.

“Hi, [Name].” 

Your lips quirk upward with a smile. 

“Hi, Beel! Who’s on cooking duty tonight?” 

His purple eyes glance in the direction of the kitchen. 

“I think it’s Levi tonight.” 

Even hearing his name had a certain strange sense of recoil popping up in you. Just afterward, you’d been perfectly fine, but after you’d processed, somehow it felt worse hearing his name and thinking about him. But you just nod and pull out a chair. 

Mammon appears with a few dishes on his arms and hands. 

“Yo, can you come help bring the food over?” he juts his chin at you. 

You’re about to say yes when you remember Levi’s in the kitchen. 

“I’ll go,” a voice pipes up from behind you. “I’m curious what’s for dinner tonight.” 

You turn, only to see Asmo smiling. Mammon shoots him a weird look—it was rare for him to volunteer to help—but ultimately shrugs. 

“Whatever, as long as it gets out to the table. My arms are sore.” 

You mouth your thanks at Asmo as he slips away, and he offers a wink. 

Belphie sighs. 

“Don’t be dramatic, Mammon. You barely carried anything over.” 

Mammon huffs at him.

“What do you know? Ya weren’t the one helpin’, anyhow!” 

Belphie only yawns in response, as he always does. 

“If we don’t start dinner soon, I might fall asleep here…” he murmurs. 

You laugh as you watch him rest his head on his arms beside you. 

“I think the food will be here soon.” 

He straightens up again and stretches languidly. Those purple eyes meet yours, and he smiles impishly before leaning over and resting his head on your shoulder. 

“Well, until it does, don’t mind if I borrow you for a moment,” he hums. 

“Sure, sure,” you nod, and you pet his head gently, smoothing his blue hair. You had to admit you had a soft spot for him—although then again, which of the brothers did you not have a soft spot for? Levi had been the one you’d been closest to, though, you’re reminded with a twinge. 

Dinner commences, and you avoid looking at Levi. You don’t say much at all. The demon brothers always kept conversation busy since there were seven of them anyway, so your absence isn’t noticeable. Or so you thought. 

“You’ve been rather quiet this evening,” Lucifer comments. “Tired, [Name]?”

You force a smile as all eyes land on you. Damn him. 

“Yeah, a bit. I just need a bit of rest, though, and I’ll be good as new.” 

He inclines his head, his black bangs swaying gently. 

“If that is all. If you would like to retire from dinner early, feel free.” 

You blink. He’d never said something like this before. But with a sinking heart, you realize it’s better to stay and be with everyone else for now. It was better than facing your own demons, in a sense, and kept you from the chances of being alone with the one demon you wanted to avoid right now. 

“No, that’s alright,” you shake your head. “I enjoy everyone’s company, and we mostly see each other at mealtimes, so I’ll stay.” 

“If you’re sure that’s what you want,” Lucifer says.

When you nod, the conversation goes back to normal, and you feel the gazes ease. But you can still feel Levi’s eyes lingering on you a bit too long. 

You take another bite of your dinner and try to ignore it. 

“You’re tired, [Name]? You know, I could always help with that.” You turn to Belphie, who was grinning. “Should I come over tonight for a sleepover?” 

You search his eyes. He was mostly joking, but you didn’t think he would be opposed if you agreed to it. 

“Actually, would you?” 

You wet your lips nervously. It was true Belphie always helped you sleep more soundly. He looks slightly surprised, but also happy. 

“I wasn’t expecting you to say yes, but of course. I’ll come over anytime you need me,” he practically purrs. 

Your heart lightens, and you’ve never been more thankful for Belphie. You chuckle at his response, but thank him. 

“Thanks, Belphie. That means a lot to me. Although you might be coming over a lot more often than you think if you say anytime.” 

He shrugs as he cleans off his plate and stands to go to the kitchen and bus his dishes. You follow suit. 

“I don’t mind. It’s nice to get to spend time with you,” he says. You hear the unspoken, though—finally, he could spend time with you, not having plans with Levi already. “You know, I’ll be perfectly willing to move into your room permanently,” he teases. He puts his dishes into the dishwasher, and you do the same. 

“You could,” you reply, teasing him back. 

But his gaze sharpens. 

“Are you being serious?” 

When you pause, he seems defeated, about to say something, but you reply. 

“Actually, yes.” You look him in the eyes firmly. “It would be nice to have some company. I’m rather jealous of Beel, you see.” 

Belphie’s cheeks pinken slightly, and he averts his eyes as the two of you walk out the kitchen and in the direction of your rooms. 

“If you were joking, you can admit it. When you say stuff like that, you get my hopes up.” 

His voice is quiet but clear. You shake your head.

“I’m not joking. Having a room to yourself is nice, but sometimes I wish I had a roommate.” You smile at him fondly. “And who better than you, Belphie?” 

You would gladly share your room with him. He wasn’t a mess, wasn’t loud, finicky, or picky. And he was himself. Easygoing, warm, a tendency for mischief, and sometimes shy at times like this. He was cute in that way. You were always comfortable with him, and his presence often did wonders for your rest. 

Belphie’s face is still pink. 

“Seriously?” he glances at you again. “Can I stay over for a bit? I’ll have to let Beel know, of course, but he should be fine. If anything, he might be glad to have a bit of time without me attached to his hip.” 

The thought makes you laugh. 

“You two are adorable together, though. But yes, I’d love that.” The two of you stop in front of your room, and you bite your lip. “Could I have a hug?” 

He looks a little surprised, but nods, opening his arms. Belphie is warm, as always, and his smell is a cozy comfort, like fresh linens and chamomile tea. You feel your stress melting away a bit, and reluctantly pull back. 

“Are you alright?” 

Belphie looks worried. 

“I am, now that I got a hug from you.” You pat his head. “Thanks. And let me know whenever you want to come over. I’ll make sure my room is extra clean.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” he dismisses. “I’ll be fine as long as I have somewhere to sleep. Your bed is big enough for two, anyway.” 

You step inside your room and Belphie goes off to his own. Your D.D.D. rings. 

“Hello? Asmo?” 

His voice comes in clear, like a ringing bell.

“Yes, yes, it’s me! Do you have plans tonight? You were talking to Belphie, weren’t you?” 

“You’re sharp. He’s going to stay over in my room for a while, like an extended sleepover. Well, if he gets the okay from Beel, that is.” 

“I’m sure he will,” Asmo replies. “Have a good time tonight, and let yourself rest. Tomorrow we’re going out to town, don’t be late!” 

He hangs up, and you put your D.D.D. on your desk. Before Belphie came back, you had to tidy up a little. 


	3. Chapter 3

Time is passing, and you’ve been mostly successful in avoiding Levi, or at least not spending time with him alone. Belphie’s been staying in your room, which helped you to sleep better at night. You and Asmo had agreed to not confront Levi for now and take some time and space for both of you. 

But that pile of clothes is still in your room. You’ve washed it and dried it and now it’s in a bag, but it’s still here. You’d been eyeing it from time to time, remembering that you need to return it. It drives you nuts, knowing it’s there. It was a remnant of what he had inflicted upon you. Of his betrayal. 

You sigh for the third time in a row as you sit in class. You should just get it over with. Tonight, your plans had gotten canceled because Beel and Belphie had to work at Ristorante Six to make up for missing staff. Which also meant that Belphie wouldn’t be back for the night. 

On an impulse, you fish out your D.D.D. and type out a message to Levi, asking if you could come drop by and return his clothes after class is over. 

His reply is almost immediate as if he’d been waiting for your message, and he says it’s okay. 

You put your D.D.D. away, apprehension building inside you. You just hoped this would be okay. You hadn’t talked to him alone since that day, and you weren’t too excited about the prospect of doing so now. 

* * *

Levi drummed his fingers on his desk impatiently, looking at his D.D.D.—he was waiting for you to come drop by and return his clothes. He hadn’t talked to you for two weeks now, at least not directly and never without another one of his brothers around. He missed you, badly. He couldn’t blame you for wanting to stay away, but some part of him had still wished you wouldn’t avoid him. But it was what it was. He heard a few knocks on the door. 

“Levi…?” your voice called out, uncertain. He hadn’t heard you say his name in so long. The nape of his neck tingled. 

He opened the door, and there you were. You were still in uniform, having dropped by rather quickly after class, and your cheeks were flushed from walking quickly. 

“You’re here,” he says, and he tries to keep his voice calm. “Want to play some games before you go?” He watches you waver. “I just got the new Vocadance rhythm game.” 

That was your favorite game, he knew. The newest installation in the series had arrived from Akuzon today. Your eyes darted back and forth nervously.

“Uh, maybe not today… Here’s your clothes.” You hand him the bag. “Thanks for letting me borrow them. Sorry it’s late.” 

Levi’s heart panged as he took in the sight of you. You were so anxious. You almost seemed scared of him. Regret mounts inside him again—but he recalls that one night, when you had been his, and it dissolves slowly, although leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. 

“It’s fine. Are you sure?” he asks again.

He hoped he didn’t sound too pathetic, but it had been so long since the two of you had spent time together, and he was aching for your presence. Your smiles and touch and laughter. 

You hesitate, and before you say it, he knows your answer as your shoulders slump.

“Alright. Just for a little while.”

You always gave in to him. It was one thing that he thought he might’ve had his brothers all beat in. Even Lucifer you turned down now and then. But he was rarely turned down, or at least if he asked again, you often relented. Warmth blooms in his heart, and he steps aside to let you in. 

Your eyes take in the sight of his room as you do exactly what Asmo told you not to—spend time with him, and him alone. But you could never resist those eyes of his, orange, pleading eyes with a glint of sweet purple. And the way his mouth twisted. The slight touch of pink to his cheeks. You knew him too well, as best friends. Or ex-best friends. And to boot, you didn’t have other plans today, either, since they’d got canceled.

You hope he won’t try anything today. He hadn’t promised last time, after all. 

He fishes out the consoles and plugs them into his TV, loading the game. The familiar anime girls popped up on the screen, distracting you from your worries, and you pick up a console.

The two of you play for much longer than just a little while—it was much too easy to relax around him, you found, to settle back into that familiar, easy rhythm you used to have with him, like picking up an old habit. Whether it was a good or bad habit, you weren’t sure. You pumped your fist in victory as your characters finished, and gave him a high five. 

“Yes! We did it,” you cheered. 

What you don’t notice is the look on Levi’s face. This—he had missed this so badly. He balls up his fists. Had making you his for one night been better than days and weeks of this friendship? His heart is aching. He honestly doesn’t know the answer. His desire to possess you is constantly climbing, but his fear of losing you again is pushing it down. The two are battling. 

“Levi?” 

When you call his name, he jolts and turns to look at you. 

“Yeah…?” 

You grin. 

“You were totally zoning out just now, weren’t you. Moku had such a cute cut-in illustration, and you missed it!” 

He groans. 

“Seriously?! Ugh, I can’t believe myself!” 

Levi huffs, rubbing his face in frustration. Nothing was going quite right. At least you were sitting here with him, though. 

“Did you want to play another game?” you ask. 

You seem to have forgotten the time, which Levi is more than grateful for—it was long past dinnertime, which the two of you had missed, and nighttime is approaching quickly. 

He wants to have you. But he knows he’s risking a permanent end to this relaxed and nice relationship the two of you have. Or had. He tries to swallow his desire, but it comes right back up. 

“I’m sorry,” is all he says. 

Your eyes widen as if waiting for him to do something, but he doesn’t move an inch. He just sits there, the game console on the floor in front of him, knees pulled up to his chest, arms crossed over them, hands curled into fists. He’s chewing on his lip. 

“Should I go?” you say. 

He flinches and looks at you with those soft eyes of his. 

“N-No, please don’t…” he whispers. “It’s been so long… It’s all my fault.” 

You feel so softhearted. You know you shouldn’t encourage him. You should be firm and tell him that it is, that if he wants you to keep coming back he’ll never do what he did again. But you just rub his head gently in the same way you always do. 

“People make mistakes.” 

Levi glances at you, looking scared as he puts a hand to his forehead in distress. 

“But I don’t know,” he says. “Was it really a mistake…?” You don’t know what to say, and he keeps talking. “You were mine, if only for a night. But then we couldn’t even be friends. Even so, I want to have you…” 

His voice is agonized and low, and you sigh.

“Levi, why is being friends not enough? Even if you like me, I don’t think that one night was enough for you to sacrifice all the time we’ve spent together.” 

You watch as he rubs his arm nervously. 

“I...yeah. But I...want you so badly… I’ve never wanted anything or anyone this much before. The thought of you being someone else’s-“ he cuts off abruptly. Apparently, it was too much to think about. 

“I’m not anyone else’s. I’m my own. I’m not a thing, Levi. No one can have me but myself.” 

This time, your voice is resolute. He turns toward you, puzzled and pained.

“But I had you that night, didn’t I?” 

“You took me without my consent.” You feel tears sting at your eyes. It had been a while since you’d talked about it. “I felt betrayed. You betrayed me.” 

Those words were like a knife, twisted in his gut. So that’s why he felt so miserable. That’s why he couldn’t be friends with you that way. Because he’d betrayed you, and that couldn’t be a friend.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats. 

But even as he realizes this, there’s nothing more he wants than to take you again, mark you as his, possess you, have you fully under his control. 

He wants you. Even though you say he can’t have you. It’s pure, unadulterated agony. 

Your world shifts all of a sudden. You’re pushed on the ground, and his hands are on either side of you. His eyes are ravenous, heartbrokenly sad. 

“Please,” he begs. “Please let me have you. Why aren’t I good enough? I’m never good enough.” 

Something trickles down your cheek, but it’s not coming from you, although you feel your eyes burning—Levi is crying as he hovers above you. His tears are hot, painful, wet. 

You reach up and brush his tears away from his eyes even as more swell from them, heavy, hurting. 

“Levi, it’s not that you’re not good enough. I’m just the wrong person.” 

His eyes are miserable.

“But how can that be…? I love you so much,” he weeps. “How could this feeling...be wrong?” 

Your heart is prickling. 

“Feelings aren’t wrong. Your actions were wrong,” you say softly. “Let me go, Leviathan. Don’t do something you’re going to regret again. We can be the best of friends.” 

That word again. Friends. 

With a sinking feeling in your heart, you watch as he transforms, his coral horns branching out and his tail whipping out behind him. 

You’re tossed onto his bed, and he’s embracing you tightly, tail wrapped around one of your legs. 

“Why friends…?” his voice breaks. His eyes are narrowed in anguish, still wet from the tears he’s shed, the tears still in him.

“Let me go,” you repeat. 

But he doesn’t. 

His tail slides up and down your thigh, and he tears your uniform off, the buttons flying away, the ripping of the seams rustling loudly. You flinch. He’s never used so much force on you before. 

He’s distraught. You wet your lips anxiously, thinking quickly. 

You cup his cheeks with your hands and try to make him look you in the eyes vainly.

“Levi, stop. You’re hurting me.” 

But neither your words nor actions are getting through to him. He captures your lips, devouring you, his tongue parting your mouth and aggressively tugging at yours. As he kisses you, his hands run roughly over your body, kneading your flesh, feeling every inch. You’re being violated, desecrated. You push at his chest, hammer your fists, but he’s about as movable as a brick wall. When he stops kissing your lips and moves onto kissing your neck, biting and sucking without mercy, you gasp for breath. 

“Levi, stop!” 

But he won’t listen. You have to be his. His. 

Each of his kisses is more painful than the one that came before as he marks you over and over again. His clothed erection grinds against you, seeking friction. His tail swings behind him, sometimes rubbing your legs. He unzips his pants, and his cock springs out, throbbing, painful. 

It presses between your thighs and against your entrance, and without waiting, he forces himself inside you, delving deep inside. You scrabble at his chest desperately as you arch your back and your toes curl. You can’t hold in a whimper of pain. This was the exact opposite of the way he’d treated you last time. He was rough, so callous, impatient, and heated, agitated. His eyes are dark, clouded, and you know you can never get through to him now. It was futile. 

He shoves himself in and out of you roughly, rawly, and your nails scrape against his back as he embraces you. Grunts and groans escape his lips, deep, pained, hungry. He was insatiable. 

He fucks you like that for god knows how long, and you can feel yourself becoming sore already. He pulls out, but the relief is short-lived as he flips you and pulls you onto your hands and knees, plunging straight back into you. He holds your wrists behind your back as a measure to keep a hold on you and thrust deeper into you. You can feel the places where he’s gripping you tightly beginning to bruise. 

You try not to let sound escape you, but it was a painful pleasure. You’re a writhing mess beneath him, hurting and yet some sick part of you enjoying it. He doesn’t seem to notice, fortunately, or unfortunately. 

Your perspective changes again as he moves—you’re on top of him now, but laying flat, and his cock is hastily shoved inside you again from below. His arms are wrapped around yours, pinning them down, as are his legs as he gains more leverage to thrust up into you deeply. 

He stops, pushing all the way inside, and you feel his sharp teeth sink into the skin of your neck, biting you as he cums inside you nonstop. It’s so hot, and you can feel him filling you with his seed. After what seems like forever, he pulls out, but he doesn’t stop. You notice, with horror, that he’s still hard with a raging boner. He picks you up and brings you to his desk, where he seats you on the edge. Quickly, he’s inside you again, large, hot, stretching you. He ruts inside you animalistically as he hugs you tightly. He’s saying your name, you notice, with a frenzied passion, an excruciating passion. His hands find their way to your ass and squeeze, groping you roughly. You feel defiled by the way he was using and touching you, dirty, like a cheap sex toy or onahole that he’s just using to fulfill his desires. Wasn’t that what you were? A thing? A body for him to dominate?

He pulls out and cums on your body this time, the ropes of white landing on your face, chest, and midriff. His semen drips out from your temporarily unoccupied hole. 

He picks you up again and pushes your back against the wall, entering you yet again. 

As he does so, he kisses you again, deeply, thrusting inside you and bouncing you up and down. He bites on your lower lip and sucks on it. Then, he holds his fingers to your mouth and stretches it open, probing it with his fingers. He’s exploring you in such a dirty manner, and his movements are rushed, crude as the pads of his fingers sink into your cheeks and tongue. 

With another groan, he releases himself inside you again, ropes of cum painting your insides with white. He pulls out, and his essence dribbles out of you thickly, running down your thigh, sticky. 

Levi pushes you on your knees on the floor, pries your mouth open, and immediately it’s filled with his cock. You gag, but it continues to venture deeper and deeper down your throat until it’s all the way in. Then, he begins to brutally facefuck you. He’s ruthless. His hands grip your head tightly, moving your head with his hips so that just as he snaps forward, your head is pushed in toward him. His tail has crept up and wrapped itself around your throat, squeezing now and then. Any attempts to slow his onslaught by grabbing his thighs, so hard you think your fingers might break, are rendered completely and utterly useless under his inhuman strength. He’s moaning loudly now, all instinct and nothing holding him back. He’s lost himself in you, in his desire, his sin.

“I love you,” he says, and nausea wrenches inside you, claws at your throat, clings to your chest, seizes your heart. 

He forces himself all the way in again and his hot, thick load streams down your throat as his balls press against your bottom lip. “Swallow it,” he pleads, as if it were even a choice anymore. “Be mine. You’re filled with me. You must be mine.” 

It was true, your crevices were filled with his cum, and currently, your throat and mouth were occupied by his dick, too. But your heart, your heart wasn’t his. He could ravish you, but you didn’t love him. 

When he pulls out of your mouth, he immediately kisses you as he picks you up, hungry, hurting. 

You’re not sure how much more you can handle as he rocks himself into you again, although less fiercely than before. He sinks into you again and again uncontrollably.

“So good… You feel so good…” 

His cock has filled you so many times, you’re starting to feel used to this full, raw sensation as he continues to dominate your entire being. But you shouldn’t be, you think to yourself. It was all you could manage to, at the moment. Your eyes were smarting, but you couldn’t cry anymore. He fucks you deeply, his thrusts long and hard as his fingers dig into your hips, his nails leaving crescent indentations in your skin. You feel yourself passing out even as he continues to make love to your unconscious self, desperate, needy. 

Levi doesn’t know how long he’s been fucking you since he lost all sense of control and took you again and again. Deep down, he knows he should stop. But also deep down, the tormented love he has for you urges him to continue, even if he must break you because maybe that was the only way he could ever possibly have you. He spilled himself inside you yet again and panting, withdrew. 

Your body was covered in his marks, his essence-you were beautiful-and he had held you so closely. What were you if not his? He traced the purple bruises on your body as you slept, unaware, and reluctantly retrieved a towel to clean you. He wanted the remainder of himself to stay on you- another sign that you were his, but he knew that it was unsanitary. With a gentle hand, he wipes your body, over the curves and between the divots. Again, his touch brushes past the bruises he’s left on you. He winces. He hadn’t meant to be so rough with you. He’d just wanted to be sure that his mark would stay as long as possible. 

A look at the time revealed that it was almost morning. He kisses you and holds you in his arms securely under the covers of his bed. He couldn’t have you run away when you woke up. After all, you were his. 

Your body is sore, aching, hurting all over. Your heart is throbbing, too, and you’re not awake enough to know why. You don’t want to wake up from this sea of darkness. You have a feeling more darkness will be awaiting you if you do. But your intuition is also telling you that you have to wake up. 

So you do. 

Something is wrapped around you tightly- this sensation is extremely familiar, only your body is screaming in pain this time. It’s warm, and that scent of the ocean tingles at your nose. 

Leviathan. 

He’d done it again. Why did you spend time with him? Why didn’t you leave earlier? Many whys are swirling in your head, and you don’t know the answer to any of them. 

Maybe you wanted this, a voice says in your mind. You wanted to be thoroughly fucked and dominated. You wanted to be hurt by him, be possessed by him. And you enjoyed it. You brought this on yourself.

The thought is enough to make you want to go back to sleep again, but eternally. You wouldn’t mind not waking up again. Your head is spinning, thoughts are racing, and your heart is pounding. 

No, you think to yourself. You didn’t want this. All you wanted was to be friends with him. He forced himself on you. You didn’t consent. You fought back, resisted- didn’t you?

The voices are growing louder. You want to drown them out- the thrumming of your heart accompanies those snide and cutting voices, and it’s torture.

You try to wiggle out of his grasp, but he’s holding you too tightly. Perhaps he had anticipated this. You watch defeatedly as his eyes slowly open, being aroused from the land of dreams. 

Levi’s eyes meet yours almost immediately. He’d done this on purpose now, you knew. 

“Good morning,” he says softly. 

His voice is coarse, thick with sleep. He leans in and presses a kiss to your forehead, and you feel a chill run down your back. He hadn’t been this forward the last morning. The two of you had acted like friends. Your eyes run over his face. He’s tired. Of course. It seemed like morning, although it was always hard to tell what time it was in his room. And he’d been using you even after you slept, you knew, because the pain was even worse than when you were conscious. 

Your throat is dry. You don’t know what to say. And he’s still holding you so tightly. 

“...Let go of me,” you finally say. 

But he doesn’t move. He just peers at you with those orange eyes, and that shadowy purple inside glints harshly. His eyes have a darkness to them, a darkness he’d shown you last night and that which hadn’t left yet. 

“Why? Are you going to leave?” 

You can hardly believe what he’s saying. Were you going to leave? Why wouldn’t you? You try to keep a mask of composure, but it’s hard when you don’t know what’s going on. You had been trying to be so patient with Levi through this entire ordeal, but you felt like you were slowly being engulfed in flames. 

What were you supposed to say to him? What could you say to him? Would he do something to you?

Thoughts were racing through your mind. He wasn’t the same person you’d always been with, was he? Or were these just his true colors? He’d always been so gentle, kind, shy, a harmless and cute nerd. But now it was like you were in the grasp of a snake, coiling around your body, ready to strike, dangerous, poisonous. 

You wet your lips. 

“I need to go to the bathroom.” You’d finally said something, at least. “You...won’t let me leave…?” 

His eyes narrowed, and you realized the second sentence was a grievous mistake. The snake was hissing at you. Alert, alert- alarm bells rang in your head as you looked at him, trying not to show your anxiety. Your fear. You never thought you’d be scared of Leviathan, but here you were. 

“You want to leave…?” His eyes are soft now, watery, sad, and you almost melt. “I guess you wouldn’t want to be around someone like me.” 

Those words were just like the ones he used to say before the two of you became good friends. Only now, they had another edge to them. You swallowed the lump in your throat. 

“I’ll...be back.” 

He studies you and then presses a kiss to your lips. You try not to back away. Before, those kisses hadn’t seemed so bad, but now, you were scared. They were the precursor or subsequent actions to what he did to you. 

“Don’t be long,” he murmurs, and you feel the weight of his arms lifting. 

You try not to look too frantic about getting up, but you needn’t have worried because regardless, you can’t move well, being so sore. You shakily swing your legs over the bed and start walking slowly, unsteadily. You were naked still. You supposed it wasn’t like he’d clothe you. And after all that he’d done, you could hardly feel embarrassed about it. But you still feel unsafe. As if a layer of clothing would stop him from taking advantage of you, though. He’d just ripped it all off last night. The memory sends chills down your spine, and you totter into the bathroom gracelessly. 

Looking in the mirror, there are dark bruises all over your body, too many to count, too many to be able to cover up completely—not in your uniform, at least. When you touch one of them, it stings, and you flinch. You shouldn’t be surprised, though. Your fingers tremble as you examine each one, feeling dissociated and clinical as if it weren’t your own body, to begin with. 

It didn’t feel like your own body, though. Not anymore. Not since he’d assaulted you and left clear evidence of it all over this body. You barely recognized yourself with all the blemishes. And the soreness between your legs was undeniable, even without moving. You can feel his cum still in there. It’s not all out yet, and you feel sick to your stomach. So much had gone inside. It was absurd, bizarre. 

You splash some water on your face. You wished it would wake you up from this nightmare. But it wasn’t a dream. You were awake. 

Levi knocked on the door. 

“Are you almost done?” 

You whirl around at the sound of his voice. Great. Now you were being conditioned to react and feel a certain way, too. You’re desperate to calm the fear stacking inside you slowly, creeping on your back, living in your heart. He’s the same Levi. 

But you know he’s not. He’d hurt you so badly. 

“Yeah. Just a moment.” 

You hope your voice had come out normally. It was hard to tell, especially when your entire world was under the filter of this pain he’d given you. Forced upon you. Did it even matter anymore?

You tell yourself it does. Because you hadn’t wanted it. But you’re starting to think it doesn’t matter. Because you had come to his room, and you had, at some point, felt good, nauseatingly good. 

You swing open the door, but just a crack. He’s at his bed, now dressed, but looks up at the sound. 

“Done?” 

You bite your lip. 

“Can I borrow some clothes again?” 

Again, a pause. Nervous sweat clung to your palms. Why wasn’t he answering? 

“Are you going out?” 

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. You can’t answer this wrong. 

“I just...want to have something to wear. It’s cold, and I don’t like being naked.” 

He sighs and walks over. Before you can react, he pushes the door open further and picks you up. You want to struggle, but something tells you it would be a bad idea, so you just allow him to carry you like a doll, bridal style. Levi puts you on his bed, careful. 

“You’ll be fine if you stay in the bed,” he says. “But first, I want to take a look.” 

Panic is stirring inside you. That could mean anything. Your eyes dart around, anywhere but his eyes, which are steadily looking at you. 

“Take a look...at what?” 

He sits beside you on the bed and turns toward you, and then pulls you closer. You don’t dare to resist, and you’re pulled onto his lap. You wonder if he can feel you shaking. You couldn’t help it. 

“At the marks I made,” he clarifies. “I’m sorry I was so rough.” 

Slight relief flutters inside you, but you also dread his close look at your body. It’s embarrassing. And you notice he apologized for being rough. Not for having his way with you. That sends a shiver down your spine again. 

He dips his head down and kisses each purple blossom with care. His lips are soft, tender, and touch your body so gently. Once again, you’re being treated with delicacy. As if you were fragile. It was ironic after the way he’d inflicted pain upon you last night. 

Before you can stop yourself, the words leave your mouth. 

“Does this really qualify as just taking a look?” 

Levi pauses and meets your eyes. He’s smiling. That smile scared you. 

“I never said I wouldn’t do anything else,” he says. “And, anyway, you’re mine, aren’t you?” 

Your eyes widen, and you struggle to process. He was thinking of you as his, now. That explained the change in personality. You don’t know what to do or say. You feel numb, even as your entire body ached. 

You have to respond, don’t you? He’s still looking at you, waiting for you to talk. 

“Um…” you stammer. “I am…?” 

You had to play it safe. While you were still in his grasp. You couldn’t take risks, not while you were at his mercy. 

He laughs as if you were being silly and kisses you again. You feel nauseous. 

“Yes. You’re mine.” Levi’s forehead knocks against yours as his dark gold eyes stare into your own eyes. He’s so close, you can feel his breath. “I made you mine last night.” 

His voice is low, quiet, calm. But you recognize the threat in them. You don’t want to believe that he’s saying this. You don’t want to believe that your former best friend attacked you twice after you said no, and now is laying claim to you like a piece of property. 

What can you do, anymore? You realize you’re shivering uncontrollably, and you hug yourself, trying to cease the tremors, but it won’t stop. You know he’s watching. He can feel it, because you’re still sitting on his thighs, naked, aching, weak, and vulnerable. He rests a hand on your shoulder from around your back and kisses your cheek. His other hand gently pets you on the head. You’re still terrified. No matter how gentle he is. Those words and his actions last night didn’t match up. It doesn’t matter anymore. No matter how he treats you, you’re going to be scared. 

“Are you cold..? What’s the matter?” 

Levi’s voice is so kind, tinged with a hint of concern. His kindness was a special kind of torture. Now that you knew what he was truly capable of. You bury your face in your hands and try not to break down completely, but the tears are forming anyway, and soon enough, your trembling fingers are wet as you wipe your eyes. His eyes betray nothing. You don’t know if he’s even feeling anything as he watches you like that. With those empty, temperate orange eyes, and a hint of dark, brooding purple, dangerous, deadly violet.

Maybe you should have just given in that first night. Then it wouldn’t have come to this. Then he wouldn’t have treated you like that. Then it wouldn’t have hurt so much; you wouldn’t have to suffer so badly. 

The wounds in your heart are bleeding profusely, the blood is fire-hot, thick as it fills your lungs. You don’t know how to seal those hurts. How to heal them. You’re being drained of that which keeps you alive. 

“Levi…” His name leaves your lips unexpectedly, breathily, quaking. 

His mild orange eyes are patient as he holds the quivering you in his lap, still stroking your head. 

“Yeah?” 

You don’t even know what to say after that. You try to swallow your tears. You’ve been trying so hard to do everything. Maybe you should stop trying. Maybe, then, you would stop hurting so badly. You can drown in his kindness, his touch, his love. 

All of a sudden, the tears and tremors stop. You feel numb. Robotically, you wrap your arms around his neck and rest your chin on his shoulder. You didn’t want to think anymore. You didn’t want to hurt anymore. This was fine, wasn’t it? You give in. The way you always do.

“What’s with you, acting all cute like that without warning…” 

Levi’s body is growing warmer as he blushes. He was always adorable when he flushed red like that. You could love him. It was easy, wasn’t it? And now, all you have to do is tell him what he wants to hear. 

“I’m yours.” 

**Author's Note:**

> To be honest, this didn't turn out the way I had been planning to write it. I was planning on them having to obscure Leviathan's hold on the reader/MC and them being slowly drawn in and manipulated into loving him, but clearly, I got impatient and this came out instead. But I also want to write something like that sometime for the slow burn factor.  
> This is the kind of work that, after I wrote and reread it, temporarily altered the way I thought about and interacted with Leviathan as a character canonically and in the game because of the way it left an impression on me. The effect has mostly faded, but it was an incredibly unsettling feeling- as if I would never be able to see him the same way again. I think writing many different kinds of Levi fics has helped me to overcome that feeling, but nonetheless, it was there. I still love Leviathan though, he's my favorite character and pretty much the only character I love in Obey Me (which is a problem in and of itself, but oh well, I'm resigned to my fate at this point).  
> Anyway, I had been pretty unsure about sharing my NSFW content of this dark nature, but I've been led to believe that there may be at least one other person out there who might enjoy it, so I just decided to publish it anyway. But if people send me death threats, let's just say that I might change something about this arrangement. I'll still write them and maybe publish them, though. That's all I have to say on the matter.  
> If you got this far, congratulations, and thank you for reading! Hopefully, you're not totally mind-fucked like MC.
> 
> Edit: Unfortunately, the fic will not be updated/continued with a fourth chapter, despite that I'd wanted to add one. Since I've fallen out of the fandom, I've lost motivation to continue writing for it. If people wanted to create a spin-off and share it (as long as they mention that it's the continuation/ending to this fic and that it's their take on it), I would be okay with that. I wanted to add a chapter where things get more resolved and there's some working through of the trauma and issues, but of course, that's not happening anymore. 
> 
> Thank you for reading this and for all the support this work has received! I was overwhelmed by and grateful for the response to it.   
> Some have shared their thoughts and how their experiences tie into that of the MC's thoughts/feelings, and I'm happy if that aspect felt like representation that was true to real experiences. To everyone, I offer my love and wishes for your well-being, now and onward into the future. Take care, and stay safe! ♡


End file.
